Just the Two of Us
by hippie-girl 31
Summary: Will and Djaq, immediately following S2.


_**Just a fluffy OneShot that picks up right where Series 2 leaves off. Will/Djaq**_

After Robin and the others had gone, immediately following the wedding, and Djaq and Will had watched them from the small upper balcony until they were but a speck on the horizon, Will turned to her and said, with a half smile intended to comfort her, "So here we are. Just the two of us."

"Just the two of us," she repeated, somewhat dreamily.

Will ,thinking that she was lost in thought over their friends' departure, said, "It'll be alright." And he hugged her close.

Djaq, however, had other things on her mind. Of course she missed their companions, but that was not where her mind was drifting at the moment. Last night she had had a great deal of difficulty getting to sleep.

Of course, with all that had happened recently, and all that had been about to take place, this was no surprise. What was a surprise to her was what had been rolling around in her mind, pushing sleep further and further away from her.

She had been thinking, unconsciously at first, of her upcoming wedding night. More specifically, she was wondering what to expect…and what would be expected of her.

She had been lying awake for over an hour when she realized that she had allowed her mind to wander in that direction. She did not know exactly how long she had been lost in those types of thoughts, but she immediately forced her mind to turn from them. She used to be rather skilled at this process.

When she had lived in the forest with the gang, she had always been very careful about her feelings for Will. For the most part, she had managed to convince herself that her feelings for him were no more powerful, no deeper than those she had for the others. She even, from time to time, composed mental lists of all of the reasons she did not have feelings for this man, this Will Scarlett.

Of course, the list had been very short. There was nothing bad that she could think to list about him. There was nothing that she would change about him, if she could. But she was able to point out to herself that having special romantic feelings for anyone in their group would be a huge betrayal to all of them. It would rock the foundation that their gang was built upon. Equality.

They were all the same, no greater, no less than any other. Had not Robin told them that on several occasions? They were a strange mix of nobleman, thief, servant, woodsman, carpenter, and healer. They were men and women…well, woman. They were English and Saracen. Only in that magical place, beneath those tall trees, only in the middle of that forest called Sherwood, could a party like theirs exist.

They were special and they knew it. Each one of them, in his or her own way, knew how truly lucky they were to be a part of something so much greater than any of them could have been on their own. They respected one another and placed loyalty to their group, to their cause, above any preferential treatment of any member.

This had been at Robin's insistence. He did not want them to feel that they were fighting for him or serving him. They were all an equal part.

So to have one of their number staring, dreamy-eyed at another, or calling out his name in her sleep, would hardly be conducive to a peaceful coexistence. That was always the argument she used to top her mental list.

Another reason that she was sure she did not, and could not care for him was that he would be uncomfortable if he thought she had. It would have caused him embarrassment. The added attention would be unwanted. He would become self-conscious around her. And that would mean that their relationship, their friendship would change.

Having special feelings for Will would most certainly cause a rift between them. He would feel the need to distance himself, either to protect her feelings because was such a considerate man, or in order to keep himself from having to deal with the discomfort of having the others watch and whisper. She could not bear to lose the friendship that they had built.

So, on those long nights in the forest, when she had been unable to sleep, and her mind would sneak over to this forbidden topic, she was always able to pull herself back before things went too far. Of course, at that time, her thoughts had been only of spending an afternoon alone with him, making deliveries. Or of watching him carve out one of his beautiful projects on a piece of wood. Or maybe, rarely, if he had been in particular danger that day, of holding him, just briefly, just long enough to assure herself that he was still with her.

These thoughts had always troubled her then. She was sure she did not care especially for him. She knew that his sweetness and his bravery and his talents, not to mention the deepest green eyes that she had ever seen, were simply all conspiring to trick her into trusting her feelings, which she would not, she could not do.

She knew that she was just momentarily confused at times. That was all. Confused by the way he smiled at her. By the way that he was always, always considerate of her and her feelings.

She felt certain that, if only he were not so kind, so gentle, so quiet and wise, she would not even be confused. She would feel for him exactly what she felt for Much, for Allan, for Little John, and for Robin. She would be able to love him as a sister would. Without all of this inconvenient blushing.

She had always been so ashamed of the blushing. So she had made herself be strong. She had forced herself to treat him with, not indifference really, just less consideration than perhaps she felt. She had made a point of letting herself know, in no uncertain terms, that feelings for him were unacceptable and a hassle and even a danger to their shared cause. That she simply must not have them.

And she had obeyed her own instructions, for the most part. Right up until the night that they thought would be their last on earth. On that night, she had thrown caution to the wind. She had decided that if they were about to die, as they surely were, then he deserved to know that he had meant something to her. That he was special, not only as a part of the whole, but special to her, personally.

She needed him know that she loved him and why. So she had nervously, but with unreserved feeling, revealed all to him. To her shock and relief, he had answered her confession with the most beautiful, unrehearsed, heartfelt speech she had ever heard from anyone's lips.

And then they had survived, and this unexpected gift of life was all the more promising because they now had nothing to hide from one another. They were together from that very day.

So when, after the completion of their mission to save the English king, and their sorrow over the death of beloved Marian, he had asked her to marry him, she had said yes without hesitation. Not only did he wish to be her husband, he wanted her to remain in the Holy Land so that she could spend some much needed quality time with Bassam, the man who had been more of a father to her than her own had ever been. And he, of course, would stay with her.

This had been a wonderful gift. She would never have stayed without him. But with him by her side, she felt that she could do it. She felt that she could be separated from the home she had come to love in order to reacquaint herself with the home of her she could even bear to be without her friends, family really, for a few months in order to give herself time to repay Bassam for all of his many kindnesses to her while she was growing up.

So they had married in a simple ceremony and bid their friends goodbye. But now her thoughts were drawn back to the topic that her mind had repeatedly found a way to reconnect with on the previous night. The topic that scared her a little, but that also made her feel things that she had never even known existed.

Last night, she had tried hard to push these thoughts away, until, finally, she admitted to herself that they were natural and even acceptable. He was about to become her husband, the man who would know her and be with her for the rest of her life. It was not wrong to think if kissing him, and touching his chest. It was alright to imagine his hands around her waist, sliding slowly up to cup her breasts…or down to caress and stroke her….Oh, how she ached to be near him.

She thought of how it might be for them, on their wedding night. She loved him so much. He was her whole world. And she knew that no one in the world could love her the way that he did. He had loved her for so long in silence. He had suffered as she had, believing that his feelings were wrong and would be unreturned and unwelcome.

Now that he knew how she felt for him, though, he had done everything that he could do to make sure that she felt loved and valued and safe and warm. She had wanted him so badly last night. She wished that he had been with her, in her chamber, lying next to her…or over her….moving over her body, making her shiver and sigh…

It had been unbearable! Why could she not just sleep? But she was plagued by other thoughts as well. What would he expect from her? Would he accept her touching him, kissing his body, guiding him into her…even…..maybe…sliding on top of him and placing herself down over his…she shivered…or would he feel that this behavior was not appropriate for a woman, for his wife?

Would he expect a wife to lie back and allow her husband to touch and feel and move and release all without interference from her. Would he see that as her duty? Did English wives behave in that way? Come to think of it, did Saracen wives? She did not know.

She had no idea what was expected of a wife in the bed chamber. She had grown up hearing bits and pieces of what married servant women said to one another about their husbands when they thought that she could not hear them or understand their meaning.

She mostly remembered hearing them speak about their men's appetites and desires. Their quirks and demands. She did not seem to recall hearing any of these women speak of their own desires.

Was there something wrong with her? Djaq had wondered. Was she corrupted by living for years as a boy, and then sharing her life with a group of men?

She had never had a mother to instruct her in the matters of husbands and wives. Perhaps that fact, coupled with the way she had lived and fought alongside men as if it were a natural way of life, had caused her to have feelings that were not proper in a woman. She did not know.

She wished that she could talk to Will about these troubling matters. But she was frightened. Would he feel hurt by her curiosity? She knew what a wonderful and understanding man he truly was, and she felt so grateful that he had always accepted her and loved her for who and what she was…even when she had not been aware of his feelings…even when she herself had been unsure of who and what she was.

But would this make him feel uncomfortable, would it trouble him? Would he think her not virtuous? All of these thoughts and feelings had succeeded in keeping her up most of the night in a constant swirl of blissful desire and shameful doubt.

So when he put his arms around her to comfort her in what he believed was her grief over the absence of their friends, she accepted them gratefully. She clung to him and buried her head in his chest and breathed in the scent of him.

He had always had a particular smell. A mix of sweat and wood shavings. She had loved that smell. It was exclusively his. Since her early days in the forest, she had grown to recognize it as familiar, homey, and, at times, intoxicating.

Now he smelled different…new. Not like himself at all. His clothes were different, his body and hair were washed…scrubbed, really, and he had shaved.

He did not smell like Will, so she lifted her head and said, "You smell different."

He was surprised. It was probably the last thing he would have expected her to say, to be thinking about.

"Do I?" He asked, slightly amused.

He found it adorable the way she pouted just a little when she said it. He loved her face. He loved it when she smiled of course, especially at him. But he thought that he might even have loved it more when she pouted in disappointment or wrinkled her nose in confusion or concentration. She was so beautiful.

He suddenly felt the urge to kiss her pouting lips. So he bent his head just enough to fit his mouth over hers. He did not even open his mouth. He just pressed his lips lightly over hers. He loved the feel of her body against his as she allowed him to linger there.

Then, slowly, her lips parted and she caressed his upper lip with the tip of her tongue…then his lower lip. Then, as he unconsciously let his lips fall open, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and gently stroked his tongue with her own. He reciprocated by opening his mouth wider and hungrily pushing his tongue into her mouth.

They stood there, devouring one another, with their arms wrapped tightly around each other for what seemed like a long time. Perhaps it was only seconds.

They had kissed before, of course. Several times in the weeks since admitting their feelings to one another. But those kisses had been safe, sweet even. This was neither.

All at once, Will stopped, and pulled apart from her. He placed his arms on her shoulders and lightly pushed her away from him so that he held her, quite literally, at arms length.

Djaq was surprised and confused by his abruptness and feared that she had been too aggressive. She was hurt and also concerned. She felt that she had upset him by behaving improperly.

Curse this new turn that their relationship must take! She was usually so sure of herself. She was proud of being strong and independent. She had always loved the fact that she could be herself with the gang…a woman…but a woman who did not need a man anymore than he might need her. A woman who could take care of herself and do anything any man could do, sometimes better. She was unaccustomed to having to wait for a man to tell her how to feel and act.

Sure, she had been a soldier and had followed orders, and she had also followed Robin's orders without question, for the most part. But this was different. She felt that she was not in control of herself, or that perhaps she shouldn't be.

She felt such strong impulses and yet, she feared that they were wrong. She feared that she was in some way damaged by her time living in a man's world. That she had blurred the line one too many times between what she wanted to do and be and what was considered acceptable.

She did not want to hurt Will or make him uncomfortable. She had never been so unsure of herself in all of her life. She truly wanted to be a good wife and to make him as happy as he had made her. She wanted to thank him for his sacrifice of leaving behind all that he knew and staying here, in her homeland.

She had known that her role would probably change somewhat once she became his wife, but she did not know how much, or what that meant. So she did not know what to say or do at this moment. She did not know how to make it right between them.

"Come with me," was all he said as, all at once, he grabbed her hand, really grabbed it, and pulled her off in the direction of her room…the one that they would now share.

She silently obeyed because her head was spinning. She was trying to decide whether she should apologize or just let it go and try to curb her impulses better in the future. Whether she should be angry with him for placing her in the lesser role in their marriage.

Last night, she had been unsure if this would be the case. But his behavior just a moment ago had confirmed her fears. She was thinking that perhaps she should find a way to bring some of these matters up to him and explain that she had not meant to make him feel bad and that she was struggling as to how to act with him, when upon reaching their bedchamber, he opened the door and guided her over to the bed and sat her down.

He reached behind him and shut the door, a little more forcefully than necessary. She realized that this was the first time that he had been in here. He had been sleeping in the room across the hall with the rest of the gang up to last night. She also realized that he was wearing an expression she had never seen on his face before. She could not place it.

She actually became momentarily frightened. In her culture, a woman was usually expected to be submissive, subservient, passive and compliant. She was not to be willful or independent. The consequences could be dire if she were.

She was momentarily concerned that their relationship had changed even more than she had thought possible when she brought herself back down to earth with the realization that this was Will. _Her_ Will. She was not being fair to him. He loved her beyond measure and would never hurt her.

He had always loved her spirit and her determination...her fierce independence. He had told her so. He would understand what she had been struggling with. He would be patient with her and help her. He would allow her time to find her place with him.

"Djaq!" He said in what seemed to her to be an alarmed voice. "My love, what is it? You look terrified. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Please forgive me. You're not ready? You need more time." The last was said as a statement, not a question.

She was confused and, as he joined her on the bed, sitting across from her and reaching out for her hands, she wondered if he had somehow read her mind about needing time to find her place. "I…I want to you to be happy with me." It was all she could force out of her mouth.

He looked stricken. Truly hurt.

"Djaq, how can you say that? I'm happier than I have ever been in my life. Happier than I ever thought I could be. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I can wait. As long as you need. I'm sorry if I frightened you, my love. I was too aggressive, I'm sorry. I should have thought, I should have asked."

Now she was truly puzzled. "What? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I love you more than anything in this world and I would never force you or expect you to be with me if it's not what you want. I want you to listen to me. I should have said something sooner. I've been thinking about it for a few days now. Probably longer. I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I don't…I don't know exactly how…how this is suppose to happen. If I should ask or if it will just happen on its own, or what. I'm so sorry. I guess that I don't know much about these things. Only what I've heard…what people say…but that isn't about us. That sort of talk was always about _other_ women. Not like what _we_ have, together. You're my wife and I want to take care of you and love you and make you happy. I never want you to feel uncomfortable. I was planning on speaking to you about it tonight, to see what your thoughts and feelings were, but…just now, when we kissed, it was…different, and I thought that maybe it was different for you too and that maybe you wanted….." he looked down as his voice trailed off.

"Will. I do not understand what you are saying. You are not angry with me for kissing you that way? I thought that you were upset. You stopped and then you held me away from you. I thought that you brought me in here to tell me that I upset you, because I was not a proper wife."

"What?" He actually laughed now.

"Do not laugh at me, Will Scarlett. Do you find my voice so silly that even my serious words are funny for you? I am very confused. I am troubled. I have not been sure what to do. I wanted to be with you, to touch you and feel you….it is only because I love you so much…or maybe because of living with men, and being a fighter, maybe I do not know how to behave like a proper woman…I only want to be what you want of me. Help me. Tell me what to do. I have been afraid of making you feel uncomfortable, by speaking of this and by the things that I feel. I do not know how to be an English wife…or a Saracen wife, either." Her words tumbled out in almost a jumble. She was near to tears.

Understanding was slowly dawning on him. He saw how vulnerable she was at this moment and he finally understood what she had been afraid of. He was surprised. She was always so confident. He had rather assumed that she would be more matter of fact and relaxed about this than he was.

He thought that she would smile at his nervousness and reassure him. He had not really even considered the possibility that she would be unsure of herself. He should have been more fair to her.

Of course this was new to her as well. He should have spoken to her about it as soon as he became aware that he was having doubts, then they could have talked about it together, instead of suffering silently, both worried and both too afraid to admit it.

He loved her more at this moment than he had ever loved her before. He realized that they were a family, the two of them. They would always be together, no matter what else happened.

He felt so sorry that she had misunderstood his reaction. He decided to choose his words carefully. He scooted closer to her on the bed and took her face in his hands.

"My beautiful Djaq. You are not an English wife or a Saracen wife. You are _my_ wife. And you are perfect, exactly as you are. You have always been perfect. Perfectly you. I'm sorry that I frightened you. Please, you must never be afraid of me my darling. I would never hurt you. I could never be angry with you even if you _had_ done something that I was not happy about. But you haven't, my love. You've done everything right. I could not ask for any more than what you are to me already…you're everything, truly everything. My whole world. I stopped kissing you earlier because I was so…_moved_ by you that I wanted to bring you in here and ask you to be with me, now, to not wait until tonight. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to be as close to you as I could. But I held you away from me because I didn't trust myself to be able to wait until we had reached the safety of our chamber. I'm sorry that you were hurt. And I can not tell you how happy it makes me to know that you have these feelings for me as well. That you want to be with me too. There is nothing wrong with you. You haven't lived your life in any way that would make you less of a woman. You must never think that. I love the woman that you are, that you have always been. Strong and independent. Brave and fierce. I would never ask you to change. I wouldn't want you to. But you must also never be afraid to come to me and tell me when you are troubled or have doubts. I have to remember that too. We have wasted so much time keeping our feelings hidden. We have to share ourselves…what's inside. Promise me that."

And as she nodded, he kissed her on the forehead. She slid her arms around his back and laid her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair and her cheeks and kissed the top of her head.

"I want to be with you now. _Right_ now." She breathed into his shoulder. And she slid her hands under the back of his shirt and ran them up and down his back. He shivered and held her closer.

"Are you sure?" he said carefully. "Because I meant it when I said that I could wait."

"_I_ can not wait."

She slowly lifted her head from his shoulder and raised her face to his. She kissed him softly, without ever closing her eyes. She wanted to see him. He watched her too.

She lifted the back of his shirt up over his head. She had to stop kissing him in order to get his shirt off, but as soon as she had slid it off of his upraised arms, she resumed her place at his lips. Their kiss was as full of longing as it had been earlier, but it was also filled with something deeper, something that calmed and at the same time excited them both.

He put his hands on either side of her face and slid off her veil, finally closing his eyes. He let himself sink even deeper into the kiss, and as he did so he gently guided her backwards so that she was laying on her back with him over her.

He released her face and lips and kissed her neck. Then he moved his hands down to try and remove her clothing. This proved to be rather a difficult challenge, however, so he resumed kissing her.

She pulled out of the kiss and nudged him up gently so that she could rise from the bed. He was curious, so he merely watched her. She stood in front of where he lay on the bed and started to remove her clothing. It was somewhat involved and time consuming and the process fascinated him. He watched her hands work as quickly as they could, fumbling a little in their desperation to be rid of her garments.

He rose to assist her, but she softly pushed him back down whispering, "No, I want you to see me. Please."

At this, he felt more desire surge through him than he had ever felt before. There had been many times when he had been aroused due to thoughts of Djaq and what she might look like undressed. That was the main reason that he had always taken to sleeping with his back to everyone at the camp. In case his thoughts or dreams should carry him away to an embarrassing place.

And earlier, when they had kissed passionately, he had begun to feel the familiar, if now less unwelcome, hardening below. But now, as he watched her reveal herself to him, as she commanded that he do so, he was so full of intensity that he thought he would burst.

It was almost agony. He fought himself not to grab her and kiss every part of her body. He busied himself removing his trousers while he watched her just to keep himself from moving toward her.

Finally, she had the garment opened to reveal her beautiful body, her perfect bronze breasts…her lovely little naval…a patch of soft brown hair below her belly.

A sigh escaped him involuntarily. When he reached out to touch her, she asked, her breath coming out in short gasps, "Do you remember? When you saw me the first time? When I was bathing? That very first day that I came to you?"

He did remember. Of course he did, how could he forget? Although, he had actually tried to forget as often as he had tried to remember every detail. He had never been completely successful at either. Now, when he touched her breasts, he found that his memory had been incapable of recreating the beauty he saw and felt before him.

He sat up closer to her standing figure and pressed his mouth to her nipple. "Yes, my love. Oh, yes, I remember," he sighed.

He gently kissed her nipples and then slowly ran his tongue over the area around each one. She exhaled deeply and leaned closer to him for support as she was unsteady on her feet. She let her garments drop to the floor.

He leaned back on the bed and he pulled her over him. Neither of them had any plan in mind, and they were not exactly certain of the order of things, but they thought of nothing. Only the way they felt in each other's arms. Only how their skin tasted, salty and sweet.

They could not even think of all the things that they had envisioned doing to one another when this moment finally arrived, because they were both so caught up in the pleasure that every little touch and kiss and lick brought them.

Will ran his hands all over her back and down her legs, savoring the smoothness of her skin against his hands. He rolled his tongue everywhere from her cheeks to her lips to her neck and chest. He could not get enough of her. She was never close enough for him. He kept trying to pull her down closer to his body, until, finally, there was only one step closer that they could get.

She knew that he would try to enter her at any moment, how could he help it? They were both moving against each other and she felt his hardness against her soft, damp opening. She said, somewhat breathlessly, "We should put something down for the blood."

At this, he came back to himself instantly and sat up, taking her with him. As he held her, facing him, on his lap, he looked at her with concern and said, "Blood?"

She had been unsure as to how much Will knew about the technical aspects of intercourse. She, herself, understood only some. Her medical knowledge did not extend very far into this area.

So she held his face in her hands and said, with reassurance, "It's only virgin's blood, my love. Only a little. Do not worry. Let us place an extra blanket down just in case." And she reached up under the pillows at the top of the bed, where an extra blanket was kept, and tossed it behind him on the bed.

But he was worried. "I don't want to hurt you." He held her tenderly against him and pressed his cheek to her chest. "I could never bear to cause you pain. Will it hurt?"

He refused to move from this spot. He simply would not consider hurting her in any way. Especially when all he wanted was to give her incredible pleasure. He would rather never make love to her at all than risk causing her any pain.

But she wanted him far too much to stop now. She was so full of desire for him that she could barely contain herself. She was still moving over him, pressing her warm wetness back and forth across him, and this rhythmic friction was all that kept his firmness from failing, so ready was he to abandon what had seemed so urgent to him but a moment before.

She kissed him, slowly, stroking his lips and tongue with hers, and whispered, through loving kisses, "I do not think it will hurt badly…Or for longer than a moment...Just be gentle, at first….It will be alright. ..I trust you……….Please, my husband, make love to me now…. I need you now. …I want you now. …Right now. ..Right now, my love."

And she reached down between their bodies and searched with her trembling hand until she settled on what she wanted. She wrapped her hand around it and began to guide him into her. She opened her legs slightly wider and pushed her body closer to his.

As he penetrated her, she let out a tiny yelp of pain, at which point he attempted to pull back, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and held him to her. She had been correct, and the pain was fleeting.

"See, no more pain," she told him as she began to rock back and forth over him.

At this news, he picked her up and placed her on the bed so that he was lying on top of her and he began to move in and out of her for the first time since entering.

Everything felt so good. Every part of his body was alive. He watched her as she looked up at him through her half-closed eyes. He kissed her neck and face and breasts…tenderly at first, then, as his pleasure grew, he kissed her with more urgency. He moved more quickly and she moved with him.

He had the vague notion that they were together here as they had always been on the battle field. Working together, anticipating each other's every move…without words…just instinct. They had always completed one another in battle. Knowing when to duck or swing or charge.

He had always loved to watch her fight. The way she became almost an animal, putting everyone around her to shame, loving every moment of it. He took satisfaction and comfort in knowing that they made love together the same way that they did everything else…as one.

He lifted his upper body off of hers in order to sit up slightly. He wanted to see her body move beneath him. As he did so, she loosened the grip that her legs had had on his waist and placed her feet flat on the bed with her knees bent.

She then, much to his excitement, pulled herself up so that she was sitting up with him, facing him. Here, she began to move with him faster and arch her back. He held her back and supported her while he watched her.

She was biting her lower lip and she had her eyes closed. He felt that he could not take much more of this. He could not control himself. He had always loved her so much, this beautiful goddess, and here she was, giving him everything, all that she had. Oh how he worshipped her. He could not help himself.

Then, all at once, she let out a small cry. It was almost exactly like the battle cry that escaped from her when she was triumphant in a fight, only it was softer and, somehow, sweeter. Then her face became peaceful and she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

If he had not already been close to losing control, that would have sent him over the edge. As it was, he was already there. He pushed himself as far inside of her as he could go and he held her tightly as they moved together for a moment longer.

Finally, when he had finished, she wrapped her legs back around his waist and leaned close to him in order to plant soft, cool kisses all over his face.

He sat there, dazed, for a moment or so, until coming back to himself . At which point, he laid her back down on the bed and placed his head against her chest.

Here they stayed, catching their breath, and recovering their thoughts, until, after several moments, she said, softly, as she kissed the top of his head, "Here we are. Just the two of us."

And they knew that everything was right and they were exactly where they belonged. Together.

The end.

_**Review if you like, I'd greatly appreciate it.**_


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